Hang On to Your Future
by Fantasy Cat
Summary: A look at Christmas a few years into the future, where things are dark and twisted, but still unusually warm. Spec epilogue fic. Feat: Liv, Peter, Ella, Walter. Various POVs. Added special surprise for P/O fans!
1. Bleak

**Note before reading:**** This is NOT set in the other reality. This is set in our reality in the future but as you will see throughout the fic, the future gets a bit...weird. Once again, I inhale the drug of writing long, bittersweet, one-shots. Did you expect anything less from a writer like me? Just enjoy!**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own **_**Fringe**_**.**

* * *

Something was clearly wrong with the world. Walter knew it.

Even as he sat on his porch, looking out into the holiday-decored street with snow crystal pouring down to cool his senses, he could sense the eerie changes all around him.

Sometimes he would see them, one or two of them, strange odd-looking bald men in suits and no eyebrows. They would walk up and down his street. Walter was convinced that they were keeping and eye on something. A possible new policing force he thought, like in Orwell's _1984_.

Dear god, had a Big Brother state taking over the country?!

"Peter?!" he cried out. "Peter!"

Walter remained helplessly bound to his Victorian-whickered wheelchair, as the world seemingly began to fall apart all around him. Peter rushed out onto the porch in quick response, thank goodness.

His son was unusually calm, a bit too calm. "You okay, dad?" he asked Walter. "You need another blanket out here?"

Walter liked it when his son called him 'dad'…well of course he would. Why would his own son call him anything different? A son is to address his father as 'father', after all. Perhaps in an alternate reality, maybe, would he have a son so callous in the heart as to rudely call him by his first name.

An alternate reality? Walter scoffed. Yeah…right!

"Those men are out there again! Those strange bald little men! I think they're planning something, some possible takeover of the world, Peter. Oh it's so terrible. I wish there was something I could do about, son!"

Peter stood there, in the 30*F weather with his father, giving him a blank response. He couldn't think of any other. To laugh would anger Walter. To show pity towards his deteriorating mind would only make Walter suspicious.

"It's okay, dad," Peter assured him. "They're good people."

"But they're policing the world are they not?!" Walter was shaking in his wheelchair, dreaming of being able to stand up and wipe out all of these weirdos for the sake of his son…for the sake of him to be able to grow up in their quaint little home in Cambridge safe and secure and normal as (from what his memory could gather) they always had.

"Yes, they are, dad. But they won't hurt us. In fact you might even say, they kinda respect you."

"Hmmphf. Whatever for?"

"It's kinda…a long story."

Almost on cue, a strange bald man came walking down the street and took one long pause to stare at the father and son on the porch. The strange man took off his hat to reveal his head, shining badly without a single strand of hair. He was tipping his hat to the two of them as he walked by.

"Well…" said Walter. "They might have good manners, but I still don't trust them."

"It's okay not to trust everyone, dad," Peter assured him.

"Do you remember…why I wanted to come out here onto the porch?"

"Yes, dad. You're waiting for someone."

"Oh. Family or friend?"

"A bit of both."

At that moment, Walter thought how wonderful it was to have his son here to remind him of things…things from five minutes ago which he had forgotten….such as why the strange bald man unnerved him so. But he couldn't even remember the last few years of his life…or any years before that for that matter.

Yet when Peter talked to him of his past it was of good things…always of good things.

When asked if Walter was a good father to him, Peter always said yes.

That made it true right? He had to have been a good father. Otherwise his son would not have loved him this much to stay here and be his only family…his only caretaker.

He had no one else, no companions, no memories, no job…though the strange thought of him being a scientist in a past life seemed to jog his mind. He wasn't sure if possibly being a scientist was something he really wanted to remember. After all, it made him cry too much to think. He hated crying infront of Peter. That would be for when he would be alone in his bed, after Peter tucked him in, with bedpan and all.

A strange SUV pulled up to the front of the house and it made Walter's heart jump about 50 feet into the air, metaphorically speaking. Everytime a car pulled up infront of the house, Walter always had a feeling of dread, as if someone were coming to take him away.

But Peter assured him those times were over, no one would come to take him away again, let alone get him out of his wheelchair, except for baths and bed.

He was a bit scared when Peter stepped off the porch and walked out towards the car. Out of the car came two people, one of them was a little girl dressed in a puffy jacket and a nice winter cap. She came out of the backseat pulling out several shopping bags with her.

From the driver's seat came out a lovely young lady with long golden hair. Quite an exceptional young lady that Walter had no doubt ever met in his life. Peter approached her and gave her a warm embrace.

Strange, Walter thought. They seem to be familiar with each other. Peter was not the type to be warm to strangers, after all.

The three of them walked up to the porch, Peter was now carrying some covered dishes for the lady. What a gentleman, Walter thought. If there was any proof that Walter raised his son well…it was in his chivalrous ways with the ladies.

"Hello, Walter," the lady greet as she kneeled down by his side. "Merry Christmas."

Walter took in the moment to touch her cheek. The woman merely smiled at the gesture as this was after all a common ritual for the both of them…to give Walter a few seconds of exploration of her face, to find some sort of familiarity with the lady. She did have very soft cheeks…like Peter's mother. Very few women were known for that, so this one had to be exceptionally special.

"And who might you be, dear?"

"It's me, Walter…Olivia."

"Oh?"

"Hi, Walter!" the little girl greeted.

"And you might not remember my niece Ella," said Olivia. "You only met her a few times before."

"And how many times have we met, Olivia dear?" Walter asked curiously. "Five…six times?"

"Um… a little more than that."

"I brought you a present, Walter," Ella said with a big smile.

"Oh presents! Presents are always a treat. Oh my. Peter?"

Peter returned to the porch after bringing in all of the things from Olivia's car.

"I feel like an awful host. Did we not buy any presents for these two lovely ladies?"

Peter sighed. "Of course we did. You were with me when we went Christmas shopping!"

"I was? Oh how wonderful! I do wish you would be more of a better host and at least prepared a meal for our guests."

Peter gave another exhausted sigh that Olivia smirked at. Getting back to checking on the turkey seemed to be an easier challenge for the moment than having to deal with Walter's failing memory.

"Why don't we all go inside?" Olivia suggested.

"Thank god," Peter replied softly.

Peter grabbed the handles of Walter's wheelchair and he pushed him back into the house. Ella and Olivia quickly followed.

"Well that was awfully rude of you, Peter," said Walter. "Whatever happened to 'ladies first'?"

Dinner was survivable at the very least. Walter couldn't remember why they were having turkey twice in a period of four weeks but Olivia was kind enough to explain to him the concept of some families having turkey again for both Thanksgiving AND Christmas.

"Perhaps next year," Walter proposed. "We should try something different. Something that would taste exciting. You've seen those unusual birds flying about haven't you? I imagine those would taste quite exquisite don't you think?"

Both Peter and Olivia knew what birds he was talking about. Even Ella knew to some degree, that Walter was referring to those genetically altered birds that had taken the skies. They were as big as eagles but their snouts were massive and vicious like dragons. Their tongues were serpentile, and could capture prey as big as dogs. People had to be very careful not to leave their little ones outside out of fear of these creatures. They had no problem eating humans, after all, when provoked. But thankfully they remained most of the time, in the skies. Some say that Massive Dynamic was behind their alternation, but Peter and Olivia knew (along with Walter back when he had memories) that they escaped from the other reality, began to over-breed and took over the skies. Just one of many weird species from the other world to do so.

"Maybe next year," said Peter.

"I'm done eating," said Ella. "May I go into the living room?"

Walter couldn't help but think what an exceptionally polite little girl she was. What was her relation to the woman again?

"Go nuts," said Peter. "I'll let you even wheel my father in."

"Oh fun," said Walter.

Ella jumped out of her seat and went to the handles oh Walter's wheelchair. Luckily it wasn't too heavy for her, and she was able to push Walter out of the kitchen with ease.

"Is it time to open presents yet?" asked Walter.

"Of course not, Walter," said Ella who was equally excited. "We have to wait for Peter and Auntie Liv to finish up."

"Oh, I wish they would hurry then."

Ella's eyes averted to the unusual tank in the living room, standing on the other side of the Christmas tree. She nearly jumped as she saw the thing began to move. She pointed to the tank. "What is that thing?"

"A strange animal isn't it? It's an unusually large slug with spikes. I found it on the porch on day, but Peter was insistent that I've had this 'so called horrid' thing around for years and that it has a tendency to escape a bit too often. Her name's Betsy."

Ella chuckled. "But that's a girl name!"

Walter smiled. "Indeed it is!"

After what seemed like an eternity, Peter and Olivia were finish doing the dishes in the kitchen, and now was every child and old man's favorite part of the Christmas tradition: the presents.

Walter was bit annoyed at how many Christmas cards they were getting from absolute strangers. Peter kept reminding him though that Mr. and Mrs. Francis were good friends of the Bishops who had moved out of Boston years ago. Walter thought it was preposterous. He would remember such names if that were so.

And every year, Walter was given varied packages of sweets. One year it was a tub of caramel popcorn. Another year it was white chocolate pretzels. Somehow, the giver of these treats seemed to be a fortune teller of sorts as he would often get the exact form of sweets he had been craving for during this time of year.

This year, he was thrilled to have gotten a box of mint truffles. He had been craving mint truffles all week. He had to remind himself to thank this Astrid Fansworth, who was giving him these treats. Such a shame that he couldn't recall meeting someone with such a lovely name.

Only Peter knew that it was often his Christmas errand to contact Astrid around the holidays to inform her of Walter's recent cravings so she knew what exactly to send him every year in the way of edibles.

Throughout the evening, Walter eyed his son and strange woman with curious fascination. He even leaned over in his ear to say, "I think this one's a keeper, boy."

Peter rolled his eyes at, Walter. "Sure, dad. If you say so."

"I mean it, boy. What did you say is you relation to the woman again?"

"It's a bit…uh…complicated."

Walter didn't believe his own son. He had to be keeping secrets from him. Perhaps Olivia was some secret lover he didn't tell Walter about. Perhaps someone he met on his former frequent trips out of the country before his son decided to settle down. It would've been an awkward story but a semi-romantic one.

There was nothing romantic, however about the trials that the two of them had endured. Unknown to Walter, the complications of the war and the Pattern had made the relationship between Peter and Olivia much more complicated in itself.

At one time, they both truly were…lovers, but physically and emotionally, but both had become realistic in what their relationship would bring to the present situation. Nothing but chaos.

When Rachel died, they both knew that the relationship between them would have to end, but the love between them would have to strengthen…or was that the other way around? Hell, neither of them knew the answer to that.

What the both of them did know was that Ella became quite a trooper having to take in, not only her mother's death, but the changes to the world around her. The destruction of her innocence only intensified with warring alternate realities, strange new monsters roaming the earth, and new powers taking over the government. Not to mention strange bald men who had taken over the streets.

Olivia felt unworthy of being her guardian in this new world she had an unwilling role in. But when all was said and done, her strength won out. Her only goal in life was protecting the only family she had left in this world, and she was surprised that the two of them were still standing when the war came to its bittersweet end…

…a little more surprise that the Bishop boys made it through as well.

The bitter of it all was that the world they knew was no longer the world they were all born into. God played a lesser role here and now the most twisted of science took over everything…life, animals, the government. Massive Dynamic's logo could be seen on nearly every billboard, every television program, every newspaper. They practically owned the world now, but it wasn't as is the Bishops nor Olivia had any real beef against this. It was a bit wrong, in a Big Brother sort of way. But eventually the came to accept the new way of life, the one were Massive Dynamic had to control the world for the sake of maintaining the strange new things that have conquered it. Many liberal groups tried to fight back against this mammoth of a conglomerate and failed. Massive Dynamic proved well to be the world's last protector from the twisted altering of life's natural forces. It made having a Fringe Division almost pointless, now that scientists and businessmen were more powerful than government officials.

This would have been William Bell's twisted sense of a dream world…had he lived long enough to see it.

Walter's mind had diminished in the war. It was a sacrifice he willingly gave for his son and his friends. He no longer had the gift of science, nor sanity, nor awareness of his surroundings. Without Peter, he was lost in this twisted new world. Without, Peter he would have no one to give him the ten medications he had to take daily and on the hour.

Sometimes Walter wished he had more companions around other than just Peter. He hoped that the two female guests would come by more often. (Of course, unknown to Walter's memory the girls were the most frequent visitors to the Bishop home.)

And judging by the way that Peter would often caress Olivia's back with one slight of hand, he still had some affection for the woman. But affection, even in its most caring matter, was difficult to maintain now.

Walter made a note to suggest to Peter that the two girls move in with them, stay to keep Walter company whenever Peter needed to go out. Heck, in the back of his mind, Walter wondered why Peter and Olivia weren't even married at this point.

Perhaps that was why the two families would often get together. In truth, Peter and Olivia felt awkward about remaining close to each other in the war's aftermath. They had been way to close to each other during the actual war itself. They didn't have a choice back then, being surrounded by all of the death and destruction of everything they cared for, Rachel and Peter's mother along with them.

The Bishops and the Dunhams were reduced to nothing more but two pairs of broken families, who would occasionally merge together in a sense of co-dependency on one another…the same way that broken prides of lions would often converge.

The idea of marriage, or even moving in together, seemed all too soon…too inappropriate as both sides continued to cope. However, neither Peter nor Olivia had to utter a single word to each other about it. Their bond…sometimes even glances, were enough to say that both options have been deeply considered. Even if romance could no longer come from it, the need for togetherness would always remain.

"Hey," said Ella. "Those funny blue lights are flashing outside again."

Walter wheeled himself over to the window that Ella was looking through. "Strange but beautiful they are, no? I see those lights flashing about three times a day."

"Really?"

"Of course, child. I'm not sure of their significance though. Peter, do you have any idea what it could possibly mean?"

"No clue, dad," Peter flat out lied. "I'm sure they're just a bunch of pretty blue lights."

In truth, Olivia and Peter were fully unsure why the lights continued to flash, even in the aftermath of the war. Perhaps it was the other side, reminding them of the peace treaty that had been created between the two realities…one that allowed for only certain portals to remain open for scientists and officials to cross over and maintain the balance.

"You see those strange bald men outside, little girl?" asked Walter. "Don't trust them with your life. They're something just plain unusual about them."

Ella merely did what her aunt told her to do and listened to Walter's every word, but did not literally take it to heart. It was merely meant to be a courtesy to be interested in the old man even though the words had become nothing more but pure senility.

Peter and Olivia remained in the room quietly looking on at the two of them, the old man and the kid. Neither of them were perfect representations of their age groups and somehow, the adults found that very comforting.

Because if they knew that their respective families will never be perfect, the world they had to live in didn't have to be perfect either.

It was a little something to keep in mind…just in case another super-science/alter-realities war broke out.

* * *

Happy Summer Christmas to all and from all a good review! ;)


	2. and Hopeful

**_Okay guys, I'm doing something I'VE NEVER DONE before with a one-shot. I'm actually adding a continuation in a form that's neither sequel nor novelization!_**

**_Normally I like my one-shots as they are (despite temptation from reviews to continue certain one-shots and the fact that I actually get story alerts for them.) The reason why I'm adding one more chap to this one in particular was because I thought it over and I do kinda feel bad for the way I wrote Peter/Olivia a bit too pessimisticly (given it's supposed to be an epilogue type of story). I did wrote the story a bit rushed and on lack of sleep for one thing._**

**_Therefore I added a little something to give my fellow Benchwarmers, a more satisfying but still bittersweetish ending. It's not the ultimate happy ending if that's what you're looking for and I added some more dark elements to this tidbit. The show is freakin FRINGE after all!_**

* * *

The quiet whispers of the winter wind outside were suddenly replaced by a loud humming noise.

It was a sound that Peter and Olivia would hear perhaps 3-4 times a year since the wars.

"Son of a bitch," Peter muttered. "And on Christmas, too!"

Peter began inspecting every window in the living room making sure they were closed tight.

"Need any help?" Olivia asked him.

"You're crazy, right?" Peter said as he was checking the fireplace. "You and Ella should probably get home while you still have time."

"Aunt Liv?" Ella was scared but also understanding of the situation at hand as she often had to do drills for it in school. "Are we gonna go home now? We don't have a lot of time."

Olivia felt a bit compromised. The drive home would take about the same amount of time as the warning and Ella knew it. Given that traffic would be busy in the midst of panic that the fog would bring, she didn't think they would make it home in time anyway.

She kneeled down to Ella's side smiling. "You know, Ella. We're not in a hurry to get home. We can wait it out here. I'm sure Peter wouldn't mind letting us have a little sleepover here tonight."

"Really?" The thought lifted up the little girl's spirits despite what was drawing near.

"Oh a sleepover, you say?" said Walter, who was equally excited. "Strange ritual form of night gatherings for children but for adults it takes on a more…inappropriate meaning, doesn't it?"

Peter returned from closing every window and vent in the house...a bit regretful to have heard that last bit of Walter's words; "Yes it does, dad. But please, let's not speak anymore about that."

The half-hour warning was the only kind of warning that could preserve the human race, perhaps save for the animals' quicker and earlier sense of dread. The toxic fog from the war was the only bit of chemical warfare that could not be cleansed after the peace treaty was made. Fortunately, the deadly mist was small and only settled in certain parts of the world at one time. But they could form very quickly and could last from a few hours to nearly half a day.

Given that it was winter and very cold however, the fog of death wouldn't be as strong as it normally would in be clear warmer weather. Any little bit of optimism helped.

Peter went to collect a couple of spare pillows and blankets. He was quite happy that Olivia was making the rational choice to stay instead of taking her chances outside.

Ella was getting sleepy anyway so Olivia carried her upstairs to Peter's sad excuse of a guest bedroom, nothing more than a couple of mattresses as Peter had very little overnight company. A few times, Ella would ask Olivia if they could watch the fog come by but Olivia felt it wouldn't feel right. It was a pretty sight to behold, she had to admit but the fact that it could kill every living thing that came in breathing space of it was not something she wanted Ella to take a sudden liking to.

As the girls huddled together on the mattress to fall asleep, Peter had to help put his own father to bed. Walter enjoyed the chair lift to the second floor very much but hated how uncomfortable it was for Peter to have to carry him to get him into bed, not to mention positioning the bedpan so he didn't soil the mattress for the millionth time.

"What is that noise I'm hearing in the other room?" Walter asked his son.

"It's Liv and Ella, dad."

"Oh really, they came over today? I wonder what for. It must be a special occasion. Oh look, those lovely neon blue clouds have come out again." Walter pointed to the array of blue sparkling mist that appeared by his closed window. Peter had to bolt the thing in case Walter forgot why it had to stay closed overnight.

"Nothing nice about that fog, dad. Just remember that and go to bed. I want some sleep before I have to get up in four hours to give you your medication."

"Oh I do feel awful that you must lose sleep over a poor soul like myself," said Walter.

Peter ignored him and merely mumbled "goodnight" as he locked his dad in his bedroom.

~*~*~*~

Olivia couldn't sleep and she didn't know whether it was the deadly blue fog that was still quietly passing through the neighborhood or if it was just her discomfort with sleeping on the mattress in general. She envied Ella, who was sleeping quite peacefully at her side.

Olivia quietly shifted her way off the mattress and sniffed the air to make sure nothing from the outside was seeping in. The humming of the air machine in the house provided a bit of comfort but the noise was slowly becoming rather irritating.

There seemed to be nothing but silence and darkness throughout the house as she treaded carefully downstairs. It was eerie but it was better than the sounds of screaming pain that came if one was exposed to the toxic blue fog right before their heads exploded. It was nature's punishment, she reckoned, for the war between the two realities and the war between the greatest heights of scientific discovery.

She walked into the living room and heard a sudden high pitched whistle that nearly made her heart stopped.

But then she realized that the noises were coming from the kitchen. Peter froze at the sight of Olivia as she stumbled in a bit shaken.

"I…," she said. "I just couldn't sleep."

"It's alright," said Peter. "I have the misfortune of not being allowed to sleep at all. You would know how it feels if you have to get up a couple of times at night to give medication to someone just to make sure his bowel movements are stable in the morning."

Olivia chuckled. "Wow."

"And that's just only two of his medications I have to keep track of," Peter said. "Looks like I'm fresh out of coffee though. So how's about this weird smelling cinnamon tea for ya?"

"Yeah," Olivia nodded. "Tea's fine, thanks."

They took their drinks into the living room where the only light came from the sparkle of the ghostly fog through the windows. Yet they did nothing to ceased the silence that remained as they sat on opposite ends of the same couch for what seemed like endless minutes.

"Walter's already forgotten you guys came by," said Peter.

Olivia smirked. "It's rather ironic that the man who saved the world is the only one who can't remember doing so."

Peter muttered. "Lucky bastard."

"He is."

The years of the war and after, truly seemed almost too kind to the young and the eldery, when Olivia thought about it. Peter and Olivia were just some of the unlucky in the middle, the ones who would remember the war the best.

She wondered if the others were still having nightmares about it, too. Sometimes, she wished that had done what Astrid and Charlie had done and fled from Boston as far away as she and Ella possibly could. Perhaps, they did what they set out to do and put the horrors of the Pattern and the wars behind them.

But Olivia felt foolish to think she could run away from the heart of all the horror and anguish she was bound to. She would've given anything for a Fringe Division to still be around, just something that would allow her to keep what was left of her frail sanity. But there was nothing more she and the Bishop men could do. All of what was left was left to Broyles and Ms. Sharp. They ran the country from Massive Dynamic's tower tirelessly to control all of the damage that the two realities brought upon themselves. Whatever unusual science-y things occurred in this world now, it was pointless to seek answer for. The whole world now knew about them.

Her thoughts were shaken by an unexpected hand covering her shoulder, and it was until now did she realize that her thoughts had brought her to immense tears…some of which fell into the cup of tea in her hands that she did not bother to taste. The tea was left abandoned on the coffee table and she leaned back, not caring so much for the hand that was consoling her.

That didn't stop Peter, though. He was now reaching his entire self out to Olivia, hoping to pull her closer. It was the only way, he felt, that he could shake out that feeling of fear and loneliness that had nearly consumed her...the same feelings that he had been all too familiar with for the past few years.

Yes, he loved his father now and he was grateful to have him. But he was fooling himself if he believed that he was content with having Olivia and Ella being near, coming by on occasion. It was comforting, but it still wasn't remotely enough.

It was selfish wishful thinking for him to want to go back to the time of the wars, when people were dying all around him and cities crumbled into ashes. Olivia needed him then. Their brief coupling, he admit, was quite impulsive, but more importantly, it had been desired.

Perhaps that was what made all the difference.

Now he sees her now struggling to keep it together…trying to accept that she was doing what was best for all of them, for Ella, to keep the distance, but to keep the connection with the Bishops. She wouldn't be able to let go of that even if she wanted to.

Olivia didn't seem to hesitate not once, as she was pulled into Peter's arms, shaken and tired by her tormented memories, by her choices.

"I thought," Olivia whispered. "I was only trying to do the right thing."

Peter nuzzled himself into Olivia's silky strands, much for his own comfort as well as hers. "I know. And you know how amazing you are for doing that…to think about Ella."

"There's nothing more we can do now, is there?" Olivia was shaking now and Peter didn't know if it was from the falling temperatures outside or from her inner turmoil. "It's only gonna get worse from here."

The throw that was hanging over the side of the couch was now in Peter's grasp as he wrapped it around the two of them. "We'll see," Peter assured her. "We'll see."

Without thinking how inappropriate it was, Olivia found herself leaning closer, resting her head against Peter's chest.

It took her this long to realize…that manners no longer had any value.

"Liv?"

She grunted to show that she was listening.

"Stay here."

Olivia wasn't moving at all but she knew what Peter really meant by those words.

"I need you."

Olivia whispered the same words back, and that was that. No matter what kind of chaotic relationship would come from it, the four of them had to merge into a single family unit or none of them would survive whatever this new world had in store for them.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, she thought. The toxic fogs and the genetic monsters were only negative changes to adapt to. The Observers who patrolled the streets in search for unnatural occurrences and a new state governed by a corporation that knew her too well, were just the awkward changes.

Before she closed her eyes, Olivia looked out through the windows and saw that the blue sparkling mist had cleared. The silence throughout the house assured her that Ella and Walter had slept through the fog peacefully and without harm.

And now, she could too.

Peter would be the only one however, who wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. For the moment had finally brought a new beginning for their families that was long overdue.

* * *

_YAY! See, wasn't that a little more hopeful and more Bolivia-like? Well that's the end of this one folks._

_BTW, the next chap of "Eternal Weaving" is almost done. Pinky-swear!_


End file.
